Cats Too

Like an unemployed brother-in-law, Jester sometimes drops in just to see if there are any leftovers in the cat dish.

The authors then mention that big cats and domestics have been trained for performing, but “why would anyone want to train their pet cat, except perhaps to show off their feline accomplice's talents to their friends?”

“Cats are opportunists, and the chance of a free meal is something they rarely pass up,” the authors assert.

In fact, I've been trained by them—I'm sitting on a milk crate.)

He's not binge watching dire wolves, dogs and dragons on Game of Thrones; he's not coming up with names for the orange tabby that lives atop Donald Trump's head; and he's certainly not writing a cat column on deadline.

The authors are John Bradshaw, foundation director of the Anthrozoology Institute at the University of Bristol, and Sarah Ellis, holder of a doctorate in feline behavior and a specialist with the charity International Cat Care in England.

Real time aside: One of the resident cats has just commandeered my desk chair, leaving me to finish this composition with my derriere planted on a milk crate.

This interloper must have observed one of the resident cats employing said cat flap (we Americans usually call it the cat door).

In truth, your friends will be less enthralled than you'd think by an exhibition of your cat chasing a laser light through the living room.

Or perhaps I should rephrase in light of the old adage “dogs have owners; cats have staff.”

In truth, your friends will be less enthralled than you'd think by an exhibition of your cat chasing a laser light through the living room.

No, the book's serious purpose is “to show you how training can improve not just your relationship with your cat but also your beloved pet's sense of well-being.”

Real time aside: A neighbor's cat, appropriately named Jester, has just gamboled into my home office, as he does a few times every week.

They go on to explain that “although cats learn a great deal from their owners, they can also learn from other cats … for example, how to use the cat flap.”

So let's say that two cats have deigned to live with me in return for various services I provide, such as food delivery, health care and the administration of belly rubs.

He's not binge watching dire wolves, dogs and dragons on Game of Thrones; he's not coming up with names for the orange tabby that lives atop Donald Trump's head; and he's certainly not writing a cat column on deadline.

The authors then mention that big cats and domestics have been trained for performing, but “why would anyone want to train their pet cat, except perhaps to show off their feline accomplice's talents to their friends?”

The authors are John Bradshaw, foundation director of the Anthrozoology Institute at the University of Bristol, and Sarah Ellis, holder of a doctorate in feline behavior and a specialist with the charity International Cat Care in England.

I contemplate cats to the point that when I see a reference to the chemical entity known as a phorbol, I pronounce it “fur ball.”

He's not binge watching dire wolves, dogs and dragons on Game of Thrones; he's not coming up with names for the orange tabby that lives atop Donald Trump's head; and he's certainly not writing a cat column on deadline.

This interloper must have observed one of the resident cats employing said cat flap (we Americans usually call it the cat door).

The authors are John Bradshaw, foundation director of the Anthrozoology Institute at the University of Bristol, and Sarah Ellis, holder of a doctorate in feline behavior and a specialist with the charity International Cat Care in England.

Fortunately, I now have possession of an owner's—make that user's—manual.

I was thus inevitably intrigued when a review copy of the new book The Trainable Cat landed (cleanly, all four corners simultaneously) on my desk.

I was thus inevitably intrigued when a review copy of the new book The Trainable Cat landed (cleanly, all four corners simultaneously) on my desk.